Sonnet CXXXIV:
They cannot part us. With this power of song,
Through every circumstance, and time and place,
I hold communion with thee face to face,
And baffle thus the eyes that round thee throng.
In every verse of mine that shines among
The printed rubbish of this age, thou’It trace
Some hint to thee, some line that wears a grace
Which to thee only can by right belong.
Though they encase thee in a tower of steel,
My subtle spirit shall break through the bars,
And in thy presence its old form reveal.
This lute shall tinkle underneath the stars,
While others sleep; and thou shalt hear and feel
Love’s voice in sounds that rattle with the wars.
